


Lalochezia

by bicroft



Series: SidGeno Tumblr Prompts [12]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 04:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicroft/pseuds/bicroft
Summary: It wasn’t that Sid never cursed; he was a hockey player, and that came with a certain degree of potty mouthedness at the baseline. But, Sid never cursed like this, except when he was angry and, tonight, he was definitely angry.





	Lalochezia

**Author's Note:**

> this is entirely just me trying to start writing again. crossposted @sidsknee on tumblr; anonymous asked for "sidgeno - lalochezia"

_Lalochezia – The use of abusive (vulgar) language to relieve stress or ease pain._

* * *

“ _Fucking_ Philly!”

Zhenya couldn’t help but flinch a little at Sid’s voice, mostly sympathetic. It wasn’t that Sid  _never_ cursed; he was a hockey player, and that came with a certain degree of potty mouthedness at the baseline. But, Sid never cursed  _like this,_ except when he was angry and, tonight, he was definitely angry. 

“Is late, Sid,” he said, trying to coax Sid into laying down- or, sitting at the very least. Sid had been pacing since they’d gotten back to the hotel room, still mostly dressed in his postgame suit, and he was starting to give Zhenya a headache. “Sleep help more than yelling about it.” 

“I’m not fucking  _yelling_ ,” Sid snapped, turning on him now, and Zhenya bit his tongue to keep from automatically snapping back. He knew where that would go, because they were both equally matched in pigheadedness, and he didn’t need a dirty game, a loss, and a nasty fight with Sid all in one night. 

“Fine, stop not yelling, and  _sit_ ,” Zhenya sighed, flopping back onto the mattress and throwing an arm over his face, blocking out the light in the room for a minute. 

“I’m-  _venting_ ,” Sid said, and Zhenya could tell he was looming over him, now. He didn’t open his eyes. “I’m allowed to vent.” 

Zhenya said nothing, and Sid sighed, obviously frustrated. Zhenya felt his presence shift, and the soft padding of his feet moving away, and picking up pacing again. “It isn’t fucking  _fair_ ,” he said, and there was a note of petulance in his voice that Zhenya hadn’t heard in- well. That Zhenya had  _never_ heard. 

As much as the entire city of Philadelphia might think otherwise, Sid wasn’t a complainer; he didn’t whine- not ever, when it came to hockey, and only as a joke in his personal life. “Bad game,” Zhenya agreed, opening his eyes now and sitting up. “But, bad games happen, you know. We have more; they win this one, we win next one, and one after. Kick their ass next time.” 

“Next time is a long damn time off, G,” Sid huffed. He moved back to the bed, but sat down, this time, which was a little bit of a comfort. “Months. And, I wanted to win  _this time_.” 

“You’re always want to win,” Zhenya said. “We’re all always want to win, but, not work this way, all know this. Sometimes lose, sometimes lose ugly, dirty. Happens.” It was a little bizarre, being the one doing the comforting after something like this. Typically, he was the one in bad spirits, and Sid was the one keeping him from biting the heads off of everyone who came near him for the next week. 

“I hate this stupid, shitty city.” Sid sighed, and he sounded exhausted, now, the same way Zhenya felt. He flopped back, head landing in Zhenya’s lap. “Everyone here’s an asshole, and it’s  _ugly_ , and their ice is fucking terrible.” 

Zhenya hummed in assent, petting his fingers through Sid’s hair as he spoke, but not offering any comments on his own. If Sid was venting, he was going to let him vent, but there was no reason for him to fuel the fire. 

“And- from the second we get off the bus, I feel like I’m fighting someone.” Sid went on, eyes falling shut. “And I don’t  _want to_ , it’s fucking stupid, right? Like- rivalries, yeah, whatever, but  _one fucking night_ , I would like to catch a break, and play some hockey like it is my fucking  _job_  to do, and not have to worry about some fucking goon trying to bust my face open for daring to pick up a stick. For once in my  _life,_ Geno, I would really fucking like that.” 

And  _that_ got to the root of the problem, then. Zhenya frowned, fingers stilling in Sid’s hair. Sid had stopped talking, but his eyes were squeezed shut so tightly Zhenya would be surprised if he wasn’t seeing spots. “You’re right,” he said, eventually. “You’re right, Sid. Isn’t fair. Isn’t fair people go after you, and if I could beat up every person who try-” 

“You’d be in the goddamn box the whole game, which is  _worse_ , and less useful.” Sid said, eyes opening just so he could glare at Zhenya. They’d had  _that_ fight before. 

“I know, I know,” Zhenya said, placating. “Point is: life sucks. Hockey sucks a lot, too, sometimes, but is how things be. Have to just... keep moving. Hard a lot, not to think about things, but is what you have to do. Otherwise, get so caught up in shitty parts of hockey, you’re start to hate it.” 

“I don’t think I could ever hate hockey,” Sid said, deflating a bit as the tension drained from his shoulders. “You’re right, it sucks a lot, but. I don’t think I’ll ever not love it.” 

“One of the reasons I love  _you_ ,” Zhenya said, smiling a bit. Sid huffed. 

“Love you too,” he said. “Thanks, Geno.” 

“No problem,” Zhenya said, shrugging. He nudged Sid a little. “Now, for real, change. I’m not be late for bus because you not wake up on time.”

“You’d be late for the bus if you fell asleep  _on_ it,” Sid snorted, but he rolled to his feet all the same. He still looked tired, as he went through his postgame routines, but he wasn’t angry, anymore. 

Sid tucked himself easily against Zhenya’s side as they both finally got into bed and turned out the light. It was nice; it had been what Zhenya had  been looking forward to practically since they got off the ice, fuming and cursing himself. There were fewer things better than climbing into bed with Sid and, really, he could still hardly believe he got to do it. 

They were both almost asleep when the thumping started. It was coming from above them, it sounded like, and getting progressively louder. Zhenya felt his eye start to twitch, and Sid groaned, turning over, and grabbing a pillow to put over his ears. 

Zhenya fucking  _hated Philly._


End file.
